Give Me Love
by xXDustAngelXx
Summary: Four years ago, Clarissa left behind her tragic past in Idris and started over in New York, burying her grief, ignoring her demons and forging ahead without attachments. Her solitary life is working— until she moves into a new apartment, where she meets a man who shakes her gated up world to it's core. Full summary inside. Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Summary:**Four years ago, Clarissa left behind her tragic past in Idris and started over in New York, burying her grief, ignoring her demons and forging ahead without attachments. Her solitary life is working****—**** until she moves into a new apartment, where she meets a man who shakes her gated up world to it's core.**

**Jace Wayland is used to getting what he wants, and he's determined to get Clarissa into his bed. Knowing she's skittish about entering relationships, Jace proposes an arrangement that will satisfy their intense attraction without any strings attached.**

**But after an intrigued Clarissa accepts, she realizes that Jace won't be satisfied with just mind-blowing passion. The stubborn Scotsman is intent on truly knowing her...down to the very soul.**

Hey guys! I know I haven't been on a lot, or updating my other story due to the fact that my brain sucks and I have too much work to do. Anyways, I have started this new fanfic, as a "gift of appreciation" to you all! I am going to be including the names from those who gave it to me, and a heads up to newbies that you can have a name added in as well! I am so happy that you guys have stuck with my annoying ass, you all rock. Special thanks to my dear friend IWriteNaked for being me betta for this. She's great, go check her out her bio is better than mine!

**Warning! this is rated M for a reason! Yes, that means smut. So for those who don't like smut, don't come bitching to me that I didn't warn you! You have been warned. And for those who do like smut, continue reading my lovelies. **

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments, or any sexy times with Jace. Sigh:(

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><p>{Prologue}<p>

I was bored.

Ash Riles was kicking the back of my chair to get my attention, but he'd been kicking my best friend, Cherry Droler's, chair the other day, and I didn't want to upset her. She had a huge crush on Ash. Instead, I watched her as she sat beside me drawing a million little hearts around his name in her notebook as Mr. Bastian scribbled down another equation on the board. I should have been paying more attention because I sucked at math. Mom and Dad wouldn't be happy if I failed a class the first semester of freshman year.

"Mr. Riles, would you care to come up to the board and answer this question, or would you prefer to remain behind Clarissa so you can kick her chair some more?"

The class snickered, and Cher shot me an accusing look. I grimaced and shot Mr. Bastian a pointed glare.

"I'll stay here, if that's okay, Mr. Bastian," Ash replied with impudent swagger. I rolled my eyes, refusing to turn around although I could feel the heat of his stare on my back.

"That actually was a rhetorical question, Ash. Get up here."

A knock on the door put a halt to Ash's groan of annoyance. At the sight of the principal, Mrs. Evan, the whole class grew still.

What was the principal doing in our class? That could only mean trouble.

"Shit," Cher muttered under her breath, and I looked up at her frowning. She nodded towards the doorway. "Cops."

Shocked, I turned to look at the door as Mrs. Evan murmured something to Mr. Bastian, and sure enough, through the gap in the door, I could see two deputies waiting out in the hall.

"Miss Fray." Mrs. Evan's voice snapped my gaze back to her in surprise. She took a step towards me, and I felt my heart leap in my throat. Her eyes were wary, sympathetic, and I immediately wanted to get the hell away from her, and whatever she was going to tell me. "Can you come with me please? Grab your things."

This was usually the time when the class would ooh and ahh about how much trouble I was in, but like me, they sensed that this wasn't the time. Whatever the news was in the hall, they weren't going to tease me about it.

"Miss Fray?"

I was now shaking from the rush of adrenaline, and I could barely hear anything over the sound of blood rushing to my ears. Had something happened to Mom? Or Dad? Or my baby brother, Jon? My parents had taken some time off of work to de-stress from the crazy summer. They were taking Jon out today for a picnic.

"Clary." Cherry nudged me, and as soon as her arm touched mine, I shot back from the table, my chair screeching as it hit Ash's desk. Without looking at anyone, I fumbled with my bag, swiping everything off my desk into it. The whispers had started around the room like cold wind through a crack in a window. Despite not wanting to know what was ahead of me, I really wanted to leave the room.

Trying to remember to put one foot in front of the other, I followed the principal out of the room into the hall and listened as Mr. Bastian clicked the door shut behind me. I didn't say anything. I just looked at Mrs. Evan and then at the two officers, who matched my curious gaze with distant compassion. Standing near a wall was a woman I hadn't noticed earlier. She looked grave but calm.

Mrs. Evan touched my arm, and I looked down at her hand on my sweater. I hadn't said two words to this woman, and now she was touching my arm? "Clarissa, these are Deputies Herondale and Penhallow. And this is Emmanuelle Joe from the DSS."

I looked at her questioningly.

Mrs. Evan blanched. "The Department of Social Services."

Fear gripped at my chest, and I fought to breathe.

"Clarissa," the principal continued, "I am so sorry to have to tell you this…but your parents and brother, Jonathan, were in a car accident."

I waited, feeling my chest tighten further.

"They were killed instantly, Clarissa. I'm so sorry."

The woman from the DSS stepped towards me and started speaking. I looked at her, but all I could see were the colours that she was made up of. All I could hear was the muffled sound of her talking, as someone was running tap water beside her.

I couldn't breathe.

Panicking, I reached for something, anything to help me breathe. I felt hands on me, calm words being spoken. Wetness on my cheeks. Salt on my tongue. And my heart felt like it was going to explode, beating so hard against my ribs.

I was dying.

"Breathe Clarissa."

These words were said over and over until I followed the instruction. After a while, my pulse slowed and my lungs opened up. The spots across my vision cleared.

"That's it." Mrs. Evan was whispering, a warm hand rubbing soothing circles on my back. "That's it."

"We should get going." The DSS woman's voice broke through my fog.

"Okay. Clarissa, are you ready?" Mrs. Evan spoke quietly.

"They're dead," I answered, needing to feel how the words felt. I couldn't be real.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart."

Cold sweat burst across my skin, sending cold shivers down my back. Goose bumps rose all over, and I couldn't stop shaking. A rush of dizziness swayed iver me in a wave and without warning, vomit surged up from my churning gut. I bent over, losing my breakfast all over the DSS lady's shoes.

"She's in shock.

Was I?

Or was this travel sickness?

One minute I had been sitting back _there._ There, where I was warm and safe. And in a matter of seconds, in the crunch of metal and glass…

…..I was someplace else entirely.

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><p><strong>Okay guys, tell me what you think! Should I continue? Feedback is much appreciated thank you! Again, i love your reviews, so send me out them! I will try to continue updating as often as possible! Any ideas are welcome.<strong>

**Which reminds me, if you want your name, or any name at all, just PM or review and tell me! You will see it around one way or another... **

**~Dust Angel**


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys, sorry for the delay in updating, schools been on overload lately. But here it is, chapter 2 of Give Me Love! Longest fucking chapter in my life, only for you all:* Have fun lovelies.

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><p>~1~<p>

New York

Seven years later…

It was a beautiful day to find a new home. And a new roommate.

I stepped out of the damp, old stairwell of my apartment building to a stunningly hot day in New York. I glanced down at the cute, white and green striped denim shorts I'd purchased a few weeks ago. It had been raining non-stop since then and I'd despaired of ever getting to wear them. But the sun was out; peeking over the top of high rises, burning away my melancholy and giving me back a little bit of hope.

For someone who had packed up her entire life in the small town of Idris and taken off for her motherland when she was only eighteen years old, I wasn't really good with change. Not anymore anyway. I'd gotten used to my huge apartment with its never-ending mice problem. I missed my best friend, Magnus, who I'd lived with since freshman year at the New York academy of Art. We'd met in the dorms and hit it off. While I was very private and he was a flamboyant gay-boy who captured a rainbow in his wardrobe, we were comfortable around one another for the mere fact that we never pushed each other to talk about the past. We'd stuck pretty close to each other freshman year and decided to get an apartment in second year. Now that we were graduates, Magnus had left for London to start his PhD and I was left roommate-less. The icing on the cake was the loss of my other closest friend here, Alec, Magnus' boyfriend. He'd run off to London (a place he detested I might add) to be with her. And the cherry on top? My landlord was getting a divorce and needed the apartment back.

I'd spent the last two weeks answering ads from young women looking for a female roommate. It had been a bust so far. One girl didn't want to room with a person from Idris, because she had no idea where it was. Cue my 'what the fuck?' face. Go search it up.

Three of the apartments were just… nasty. I'm pretty sure one girl was a crack dealer, and the last girl's apartment sounded like it got more use than a brothel. I was really hoping my appointment today with Isabelle Lightwood was going to go my way. It was the most expensive apartment I'd scheduled to see and it was on the other side of the city center.

I was frugal when it came to touching my inheritance, as if that would somehow lessen the bitterness of my 'good' fortune. However, I was getting desperate.

If I wanted to be an artist, I needed the right apartment and the right roommate.

Living alone of course was an option. I could afford it. However, the God's honest truth was that I didn't like the idea of complete solitude. Despite my tendency to keep eighty percent of myself to myself, I liked being surrounded by people. When they talked to me about things I didn't understand personally, it allowed me to see things from their point of view, and I believed all the best writers needed a wide open scope of perspective. Despite not needing to, I worked at a bar on Thursday and Friday nights. The old cliché was true: bartenders overhear all the best stories.

I was friends with two of my colleagues, Jordan and Maia, but we only really 'hung out' when we were working. If I wanted a little life around me, I needed to get a roommate. On the plus, this apartment was mere streets away from my job.

As I tried to shove down the anxiety of finding a new place, I also kept my eye open for a cab with its light on. I eyed the ice cream parlor, wishing I had time to stop and indulge, and almost missed the cab coming toward me on the opposite side of the street. Throwing my hand out and checking my side for traffic, I was gratified that the driver had seen me and pulled up to the curb. I tore across the wide road, managing not to get squashed like a green and white bug against some poor person's windshield, and rushed towards the cab with a single-minded determination to grab the door handle.

Instead of the door handle, I grabbed a hand.

Bemused, I followed the masculine, tan hand up a long arm to broad shoulders and to a face obscured by the sun beaming down behind his head. Tall, over six feet, the guy towered above me as most tall people did. I was a smallish five foot five.

Wondering why this guy had his hand on my cab, all I really took in was the suit.

A sigh escaped from his shadowed face. "Which way are you headed?" he asked me in a rumbling, gravelly voice. Four years I'd been living here and still a smooth, Scots accent could send a shiver down my spine. And his definitely did, despite the terse question.

"Imogen Street," I answered automatically, hoping I had a longer distance to travel so he'd give me the cab.

"Good." He pulled the door open. "I'm heading in that direction, and since I'm already running late, might I suggest we share the taxi instead of wasting ten minutes deciding who needs it more."

A warm hand touched my lower back and pressed me gently forward. Dazed, I somehow let myself be manhandled into the cab, sliding across the seat and buckling up as I silently questioned whether I'd nodded my agreement to this. I didn't think I had.

Hearing the Suit clip out Dublin Street as the destination to the cab driver, I frowned and muttered, "Thanks. I guess."

"You're an American?"

At the soft question, I finally looked over at the passenger beside me. Oh okay.

Wow.

The Suit wasn't classically handsome, but there was a twinkle in his eye and curl to the corner of his sensual mouth that, together with the rest of the package, oozed sex appeal. Perhaps in his mid-twenties, I could tell from the lines of the extremely well-tailored, expensive silver-grey suit that he wore, that the Suit worked out. He sat with the ease of a fit guy, his stomach iron flat under the waistcoat and white shirt. His pale gold eyes seemed bemused beneath their long lashes, and for the life of me I couldn't get over the fact that he had blonde hair.

I preferred brunettes. Always had.

Yet none of them had ever made my lower belly squeeze with lust at first sight of them. A strong, masculine face stared into mine—sharp jaw-line, a cleft chin, wide cheekbones, and a roman nose. Dark stubble shadowed his cheeks, and his hair was kind of messy. Altogether, his rugged unkemptness seemed at odds with the stylish designer suit.

The Suit raised an eyebrow at my blatant perusal and the lust I was feeling quadrupled, taking me completely by surprise. I never felt instant attraction to men. And since my wild years as a teen, I hadn't even contemplated taking a guy up on a sexual offer.

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><p>So there you go! I hope you liked it, I had fun writing. As I said earlier, there's sexual content so if you don't like that shit, I warned you! Oh, just wanted to say that not all of the original characters will be related as they were in the book, such as Alec and Isabelle.<p>

a disclaimer:I DOT OWN CHARACTERS OR PLOT.i usually state that before...sorry. anyways everything belons to ms. c clare and ms. s young

Reviews please, and I'm taking names for those who want one in it! PM or review! Love you all

~dustangel


	3. Chapter 3

hey guys, who woulda thought that I would be more busy than during the year! anyways, heres the long overdue chapter I owe y'all. cheers!

*I don't own shit:(*

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><p>{Clary}<p>

Although, I'm not sure I could walk away from an offer from him.

As soon as the thought flashed through my head I stiffened, surprised and unnerved. My defenses immediately rose and I cleared my expression into blank politeness.

"Yeah," I answered, finally remembering the Suit had asked me a question. I looked away from his knowing smirk, pretending boredom and looking down at my nails to hide my blush.

"Just visiting?" he murmured.

As irritated as I was by my reaction to the Suit, I decided the less conversation between us the better. Who knew what idiotic thing I might do or say? "Nope."

"Then you're a student."

I took issue with the tone. Then you're a student. It was said with a metaphorical eye-roll. Like students were bottom-feeding bums with no real purpose in life. Maybe they were but still. I snapped my head around to give him a scathing set-down, only to catch him eyeing my bare legs with interest. This time, I raised my eyebrow at him and waited for him to unglue those gorgeous eyes of his from my bare skin. Sensing my gaze, the Suit looked up into my face and noted my expression. I expected him to pretend he hadn't been ogling me, or to look quickly away or something. I didn't expect him to just shrug and then offer me the slowest, wickedest, sexiest smirk that had ever been bestowed upon me.

I rolled me eyes, fighting the flush of heat. "I was a student," I answered, with more snarkiness than I had intended. "I live here. Dual citizenship." Why was I explaining myself? God.

"You're part Scottish?"

I barely nodded, secretly loving the way he said 'Scottish' with his hard 't's.

"What do you do now that you've graduated?"

Why did he want to know? I shot him a look out of the corner of my eye. The cost of the three-piece suit he was wearing could have fed me and Magnus on crappy student food for our entire four years of college. "What do you do? I mean, when you're not manhandling women into cabs?"

His small smirk was his only reaction to my jibe. "What do you think I do?"

"I'm thinking lawyer. Answering questions with questions, manhandling, smirking…oh and being an overbearing pain in the ass"

He laughed a rich, deep rumble of a laugh that vibrated through my chest. His molten eyes glittered at me. "I'm not a lawyer. But you could be. I seem to recall a question answered with a question. And that," he gestured to my mouth, his eyes turning a shade darker as they visually caressed the curve of my lips. "That's a definite smirk," his voice had grown huskier.

My pulse took off as our eyes locked, our gazes holding for far longer than two polite strangers' should. My cheeks felt warm… as well as other places. I was growing more and more turned on by him and the silent conversation between our bodies. When my nipples tightened beneath my t-shirt bra, I was shocked enough to be plunged back into reality. Pulling my eyes from his, I glanced out at the passing traffic and prayed for this cab ride to be over yesterday.

As we approached Demon Street and another diversion caused by the tram project the council was heading up, I began to wonder if I was going to escape the cab without having to talk to him again.

"Are you shy?" The Suit asked, blowing my hopes to smithereens.

I couldn't help it. His question made me turn to him with a confused smile. "Excuse me?"

He tilted his head, peering down at me through the narrowed slits of his eyes. He looked like a lazy tiger, eyeing me carefully as if deciding whether or not I was a meal worth chasing. I shivered as he repeated, "Are you shy?"

Was I shy? No. Not shy. Just, usually blissfully indifferent. I liked it that way. It was safer. "Why would you think that?" I didn't give off shy vibes, right? I grimaced at the thought.

The Suit shrugged again. "Most women would be taking advantage of my imprisonment in the taxi with them—chew my ear off, shove their phone number in my face… as well as other things." His eyes flicked down to my chest before quickly returning to my face. I swear to God, I was tomato-red on the inside and I couldn't remember the last time someone had managed to embarrass me. Unaccustomed to feeling intimidated, I attempted to mentally shrug it off.

Amazed by his overconfidence, I grinned at him, surprised by the pleasure that rippled over me when his eyes widened slightly at the sight of my smile. "Wow, you really think a lot of yourself."

He grinned back at me, his teeth white but imperfect and his crooked smile sent an unfamiliar shot of feeling across my chest. "I'm just speaking from experience."

"Well, I'm not the kind of girl who hands out her number to a guy she just met."

"Ahh." He nodded as if coming to some kind of realization about me, his smile slipping, his features seeming to tighten and close off from me. "You're a 'no sex until the third date, marriage, and babies' kind of woman."

I made a face at his snap judgment. "No, no, and no." Marriage _and_ babies? I shuddered at the thought, the fears that lived riding my shoulders day in and day out, slipping around to squeeze my chest too tight.

The Suit looked back at me now, and whatever he had caught in my face made him relax. "Interesting," he murmured.

No. Not interesting. I didn't want to be interesting to this guy. "I'm not giving you my number."

He grinned again. "I didn't ask for it. And even if I wanted it, I wouldn't ask for it. I have a girlfriend."

I ignored the disappointed flip of my stomach and apparently the filter between my brain and my mouth. "Then stop looking at me like that."

The Suit seemed amused. "I have a girlfriend but I'm not blind. Just because I can't do anything doesn't mean I'm not allowed to look."

I was not excited by this guy's attention. I am a strong, independent woman. Glancing out of the window, I noted with relief that we were at Seelie Street Court. Imogen Street was right around the corner.

"Here's good, thanks," I called to the cab.

"Whereabouts?" the cab driver called back to me.

"Here," I replied a little more sharply than I meant to but breathed a sigh of relief when the cab driver's turn signal started ticking and the car pulled over to a stop. Without another look or word to the Suit, I handed the driver some money and slid a hand along the door handle.

"Wait."

I froze and shot the Suit a dirty look over my shoulder. "What?"

"Do you have a name?"

I smiled, feeling relief now that I was getting away from him and the bizarre attraction between us. "Actually, I have two."

I jumped out of the cab, ignoring the traitorous sliver of pleasure that cascaded over me at the sound of his answering chuckle.

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><p>Happy New Years everyone! Bye 2014 loll! I'll keep this short so you guys can go party!<p>

R&R please! Love you guys3

~DustAngel


	4. Chapter 4

Hi guys! happy 2015!

*I own nothing!*

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><p>{Clary}<p>

As soon as the door swung open and I took in my first sight of Isabelle Lightwood, I knew I was probably going to like her. The tall, leggy brunette was wearing a trendy play suit, a blue trilby hat, a monocle, and a fake mustache.

She blinked at me with wide, dark brown eyes.

Bemused, I had to ask, "Is this… a bad time?"

Isabelle stared at me a moment as if confused by my very reasonable question considering her outfit. As if it suddenly occurred to her that she was in possession of a fake mustache, she pointed at it. "You're early. I was tidying up."

Tidying up a trilby, monocle and a mustache? I glanced behind her into a bright, airy reception hall. A bike with no front wheel was propped against the far wall, photographs and an assortment of post cards and other random clippings were attached to a board braced against a walnut cabinet. Two pairs of boots and a pair of black pumps were scattered haphazardly under a row of pegs overflowing with jackets and coats. The floors were hardwood. Very nice.

I looked back at Isabelle with a huge grin on my face, feeling good about the entire situation. "Are you on the run from the mafia?"

"Pardon?"

"The disguise."

"Oh." She laughed and stepped back from the door, gesturing me into the apartment. "No, no. I had friends over last night and we had a little bit too much to drink. All my old Halloween costumes were dragged out."

I smiled again. That sounded fun. I missed Magnus and Alec.

"You're Clarissa, right?"

"Yeah. Clary," I corrected her. I hadn't been Clarissa since before my parents died.

"Clary," she repeated, grinning at me as I took my first steps inside the ground floor apartment. It smelled great. "Well, nice to meet you. Call me Izzy."

Like the apartment I was leaving, this one was also Georgian, except it had once been an entire townhouse. Now it was split into two apartments. Well, actually, next door was a boutique and the rooms above us belonged to it. I didn't know about the rooms above us, but the boutique itself was very nice with handmade one-of-a-kind clothes. This apartment…

Wow.

The walls were so smooth, I knew they had to have been plastered recently and whoever had restored the place had done wonders. It had tall baseboards and thick coving to compliment the period property. The ceilings went on forever, as they did in my old apartment. The walls were a cool white, but broken up by colorful and eclectic pieces of art work. The white should have been harsh, but the contrast of it against the dark walnut doors and hardwood flooring gave the apartment an air of quiet elegance.

I was in love already and I hadn't even seen the rest of the place.

Izzy hurriedly took off the hat and mustache, spinning around to say something to me only to stop and grin sheepishly as she tore off the monocle she was still wearing. Shoving it aside on the walnut sideboard, she beamed brightly. She was a cheerful person. Usually I avoided cheerful people, but there was something about Izzy. She was kind of charming.

"I'll give you a tour first, shall I?

"Sounds good."

Striding to the door on the left nearest me, Izzy pushed it open. "Bathroom. It's in an unconventional place, I know, right near the front door, but it's got everything you need."

Uh… I'll say, I thought, tentatively stepping inside.

My flip-flops echoed off the shiny cream tiles on the floor, tiles that covered every inch of the bathroom except for the ceiling which was painted a buttery color and inset with warm spotlights.

The bathroom was huge.

Running my hand along the bath tub with its gold claw feet, I immediately envisioned myself in here. Music playing, candles flickering, a glass of red wine in my hand as I soaked in the tub and numbed my mind to… everything. The tub sat center of the room. In the back, right-hand corner was a double shower cubicle with the biggest showerhead I'd ever seen. To my left was a modern glass bowl situated atop a white ceramic shelf. That was a sink?

I tabulated everything quickly in my head. Gold taps, huge mirror, heated towel rail…

The bathroom in my old apartment didn't even have a towel rail.

"Wow." I threw Izzy a smile over my shoulder. "This is gorgeous."

Practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, she nodded, her dark eyes smiling brightly at me. "I know. I don't get to use it much because I have an en-suite in my room. That's a plus for my prospective roommate, though. They'll get this room pretty much to themselves."

Hmm, I mused at the lure of the bathroom. I was beginning to see why the rent on this place was so astronomical. If you had the money to live here, though, why would you leave?

As I followed Izzy across the hall and into the huge sitting room, I asked politely, "Did your roommate move away?" I made it sound like I was just curious, but really I was scoping Izzy out. If the apartment was this stunning, then maybe Izzy had been the problem as the roommate. Before Izzy could answer, I stopped short, turning around slowly to take in the room. Like all these old buildings, the ceilings in each room were pretty high. The windows were tall and wide, so tons of light from the busy street outside spilled into the lovely room. On the center of the far wall was a huge fireplace, clearly used only as a 'feature' and not a real fire, but it pulled the casually elegant room together. Sure, it's a little more cluttered than I like, I thought, eyeing the piles of makeup and shoes that were scattered here and there along with silly little items… like a toy Buzz Lightyear.

I wasn't even going to ask.

Eyeing Izzy, the cluttered room began to make sense. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, she was wearing mis-matched flip flops, and there was a price sticker on her elbow. But somehow, she managed to have a classy air to her that leveled out the odds.

"Roommate?" Izzy asked, turning around to meet my gaze. Before I could repeat the question, the furrow between her dark eyebrows cleared and she nodded, as if understanding. Good. It hadn't been that hard a question. "Oh, no." She shook her head. "I didn't have a roommate. My brother bought this place as an investment and had it all done up. Then he decided he didn't want me struggling to pay rent while I do my PhD, so he just gave it to me."

Nice brother.

Even though I didn't comment, she must have seen the reaction in my eyes. Izzy grinned, a fond look softening her gaze. "Jace is a little over the top. A present from him is never simple. And how could I say no to this place? Only thing is, I've been living here for a month and it's just too big and lonely, even with my friends hanging out here on the weekends. So, I said to Jace that I was getting a roommate. He wasn't keen on the idea, but I told him how much rent this place takes in and that changed his mind. Forever the businessman."

I knew instinctually that Izzy loved her (obviously quite well-off) brother and that the two were close. It was there in her eyes when she talked about him and I knew that look. I'd studied the look over the years, facing it head on and developing a shield against the pain it brought me to see that kind of love on other people's faces–other people who still had family in their lives.

"He sounds very generous," I replied diplomatically, unused to people spilling their private feelings all over me when we'd only just met.

Izzy didn't seem bothered by my response, which wasn't exactly warm with 'tell me more's'. She just kept smiling and led me out of the sitting room and down the hall into a long kitchen. It was kind of narrow, but the far end opened up into a semi-circle where a dining table and chairs were arranged. The kitchen itself was as expensively finished as everywhere else in the apartment. All the appliances were top of the line and there was a huge modern range in the middle of the dark wood units.

"Very generous," I repeated.

She grunted at my observation. "Jace's too generous. I didn't need all this, but he insisted. He's just like that. Overbearing pain in the ass I say. Take for instance his girlfriend—he indulges her in everything. I'm just waiting for him to get bored with her like he does with the rest of them because she's one of the worst he's been with. It's so obvious she's more interested in his cash than in him. Even he knows it. He says the arrangement suits him. Arrangement? Who talks like that?"

Who talks this much?

I hid a smile as she showed me the master bedroom. Like Izzy, it was cluttered. She prattled on a little more about her brother's obviously vapid girlfriend and I wondered how this Jace guy would feel if he knew his sister was divulging his private life to a complete stranger.

"And this could be your room."

We were standing in the doorway of a room at the very back of the apartment. High ceilings, a massive bay window with a window seat and jacquard floor-length curtains; gorgeous French Rococo bed, and a walnut library desk and sitting space beside the window. Somewhere for me to paint.

Oh hell, I was in love.

"It's beautiful."

I wanted to live here. To hell with the cost. To hell with a chatty roommate. I'd lived frugally for long enough. I was alone in a country I'd adopted. I deserved a little comfort.

I'd get used to Izzy. She talked a lot, but was sweet and charming, and there was something innately kind in her eyes.

"Why don't we have a cup of tea and see how we get on from there?" Izzy was grinning again.

Seconds later, I found myself alone in the sitting room as Izzy made tea in the kitchen. It suddenly occurred to me that it didn't matter if I liked her. Izzy had to like me if she was going to offer me that room. I felt worry gnaw at my gut. I wasn't the most forthcoming person on the planet, and Izzy seemed like the most open. Maybe she wouldn't 'get' me.

"It's been difficult," Izzy announced her re-entrance into the room. She was carrying a tray of tea and some snacks. "Finding a roommate, I mean. Very few people our age can afford somewhere like this."

I inherited a lot of money. "My family is well-off."

"Oh?" She pushed a mug of hot tea towards me as well as a chocolate muffin.

I cleared my throat, my fingers trembling around the mug. Cold sweat had broken out across my skin and blood was rushing in my ears. That's how I always reacted when I was on the verge of having to tell someone the truth. My parents and little brother died in a car accident when I was fourteen. The only other family I have is an uncle who lives in Australia. He didn't want custody of me so I lived in foster care. My parents had a lot of money. My dad's grandfather was a big company owner in Poland and my father had been exceptionally careful with his own inheritance. It all went to me when I turned eighteen. My heart slowed and the trembling ceased as I remembered Izzy didn't really need to know my tale of woe. "My family, on my dad's side, originally came from Poland . My great-grandfather made a lot of money."

"Oh how interesting." She sounded sincere. "Did your family move from Poland?"

"To Idris." I corrected. "But my mom was originally from Scotland."

"So you're part Scottish. How cool." She threw me a secret smile. "I'm only part Scottish as well. My mum is French but her family moved to St. Andrews when she was five. Shockingly, I don't even speak French." Ellie snorted and waited on my expected commentary.

"Does your brother speak French?"

"Yes, as well as Spanish, Swedish…." Izzy said using what I assumed were unconscious hand gestures. "Jace and I are half-siblings. We share the same dad. Our mums are both alive but our dad died five years ago. He was a very well-known businessman. Have you heard of Robert Lightwood & Co? It's one of the oldest estate agencies in the area. Dad took it over from his dad when he was really young and started up a property development company. He also owned a few restaurants and even a few of the tourist shops here. It's a little mini-empire. When he died, Jace took it all on. Now it's Jace everyone around here panders to–everyone trying to get a piece of him. And they all know how close we are, so they've tried using me, too." Her pretty mouth twisted bitterly, an expression that seemed completely foreign to her face.

"I'm sorry." I meant it. I understood what that was like. It was one of the reasons I had decided to leave Idris behind and start over in New York.

As if sensing my utter sincerity, Izzy relaxed. I would never understand how someone could lay themselves out like that to a friend, never mind a stranger, but for once I wasn't scared of Izzy's openness. Yeah, it might cause her to expect me to reciprocate the sharing, but once she got to know me, I'm sure she'd understand that wasn't going to happen.

To my surprise, an extremely comfortable silence had fallen between us. As if just realizing that too, Izzy smiled softly at me. "What are you doing in here?"

"I live here now. Dual citizenship. It feels more like home here."

She liked that answer.

"Are you a student?"

I shook my head. "I just graduated. I work Thursday and Friday nights at Club 34. We call it Club 34.5 because, well 34.5 plus 34.5 equals 69…"I realize I'm rambling and my face heats up." But I'm really just trying to focus on my artwork at the moment."

Izzy seemed thrilled by my confession. "That's brilliant! I've always wanted to be friends with a artist. Or a ginger!" She touches my hair" And that's so brave to go for what you really want. My brother thinks being a PhD student is a waste of my time because I could work for him, but I love it. I'm a tutor at the university as well. It's just… well it makes me happy. And I'm one of these awful people who can get away with doing what they enjoy even if it doesn't pay much." She grimaced. "That sounds terrible, doesn't it?"

I wasn't really the judging kind. "It's your life, Izzy. You've been blessed financially. That doesn't make you a terrible person." I had a therapist in high school. I could hear her nasally voice in my head, 'Now why can't _you_ apply the same thought process to yourself, Clarissa. Accepting your inheritance doesn't make you a terrible person. It's what your parents wanted for you.'

From the ages of fourteen to eighteen, I'd lived with two foster families in my hometown in Idris. Neither families had a lot of money and I'd gone from a big, fancy house and expensive food and clothes, to eating a lot of SpaghettiO's and sharing clothes with a younger foster 'sister' who happened to be the same height. With the approach of my eighteenth year, and the public knowledge that I would be receiving a substantial inheritance, I'd been approached by a number of business people in our town looking for investment and to take advantage of what they assumed was a naïve kid, as well as a classmate who wanted me to invest in his website. I guess living how the 'other half' lived during my formative years and then being sucked up to by fake people more interested in my deep pockets than in me were two of the reasons I was reluctant to touch the money I had.

Sitting there with Izzy, someone in a similar financial situation and dealing with guilt (although a different kind), made me feel a surprising connection to her.

"The room is yours," Izzy suddenly announced.

Her abrupt bubbliness brought laughter to my lips. "Just like that?"

Seeming serious all of a sudden, she nodded. "I have a good feeling about you."

I have a good feeling about you, too. I gave her a relieved smile. "Then I'd love to move in."

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><p>There's chapter 4! Woohoo! LOL okay I'm feeling uber good, so maybe another chapter later!<p>

Reviews! I live for them yay! OKAY

~DustAngel❤


	5. Chapter 5

DOUBLE CHAPTER! can anyone write this day down please...no? okay.

*i own nothing*

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><p>A week later I'd moved into the luxury apartment on Imogen Street.<p>

Unlike Izzy and her clutter, I liked everything to be organized around me just so, and that meant immediately diving into unpacking.

"Are you sure you don't want to sit and have a cup of tea with me?" Izzy asked from the doorway as I stood in my room surrounded by boxes and a couple of suitcases.

"I really want to get this all unpacked so I can just relax." I smiled reassuringly so she wouldn't think I was blowing her off. I always hated this part of a burgeoning friendship–the exhausting hedging of one another's personality, trying to work out how a person would react to a certain tone, or attitude.

Izzy just nodded her understanding. "Okay. Well, I've got to tutor in an hour, so I think I'll walk instead of grabbing a cab, which means heading off now. That'll give you some space, some time to get to know the place."

I'm liking you more already. "Have a fun class."

"Have fun unpacking."

I grunted and waved her away as she flashed me a pretty smile and strutted out.

As soon as the front door slammed shut, I flopped down on my incredibly comfortable new bed. "Welcome to Imogen Street," I murmured, staring up at the ceiling.

Kings of Leon sang 'your sex is on fire' really loudly at me. I grumbled at the fact that my solitude was being so quickly intruded upon. With a tilt of my hip, I slipped my phone out of my pocket and smiled at the caller I.D.

"Hey you," I answered warmly.

"So have you moved into your exorbitantly, overindulgent, pretentious new flat yet?" Magnus asked without preamble. He was _such_ a girl.

"Is that bitter envy I hear?"

"You've got that right, you lucky cow. I was almost ill in my cereal this morning at the pictures you sent me. Is that place for real?"

"I take it the apartment in London isn't living up to your expectations?"

"Expectations? I'm paying through the nose for a bloody glorified cardboard box!"

I snorted.

"Fuck off," Magnus grumbled half-heartedly. "I miss you and our mice-riddled palace."

"I miss you and our mice-riddled palace, too."

"Are you saying that as you stare at your claw-footed bath tub with its gold-plated taps?"

"Nope… as I lie on my five thousand dollar bed."

"What's that in pounds?"

"I don't know. Three thousand?"

"Jesus, you're sleeping on six week's rent."

Groaning, I sat up to pull open the nearest box. "I wish I hadn't told you how much my rent is."

"Well, I'd give you a lecture on how you're pissing that money of yours away on rent when you could have bought a house, but who am I to talk?"

"Yeah, and I don't need any lectures. That's the sweetest part of being an orphan. No concerned lectures."

I don't know why I said that.

There was no sweet part to being an orphan.

Or having no one be concerned.

Mags was silent on the other end of the line. We never talked about my parents or his. It was our no-go area. "Anyway," I cleared my throat, "I better get back to unpacking."

"Is your new roommate there?" Magnus picked up the conversation as though I hadn't said anything about my parentless status.

"She just went out."

"Have you met any of her friends yet? Any of them guys? Hot guys? Hot enough to haul you out of your four year dry spell?"

The skeptical laughter on my lips died when an image of the Suit popped into my mind. Feeling my skin prickle at the thought of him, I found myself grow quiet. It wasn't the first time he'd flashed across my thoughts in the last seven days.

"What's this?" Magnus asked in answer to my silence. "Is one of them a hottie?"

"No," I brushed him off as I shoveled the Suit out of my thoughts. "I haven't met any of Izzy's friends yet."

"Bummer."

Not really. The last thing I need is a guy in my life. "Listen, I've got to get this done. Talk to you later?"

"Sure, hon. Talk later."

We hung up and I sighed, gazing at all my boxes. All I really wanted to do was flop back on the bed and take a long nap.

"Ugh, let's do this."

A few hours later, I was completely unpacked. All of my boxes were folded up neatly and stored in the hall closet. My clothes were hung up and folded away. My books were lined up on the bookshelf and my laptop was open on the desk, ready for my words. A photograph of my parents sat on my bedside table, another of Magnus and I at a Halloween party graced the bookshelf, and by my easel in the corner, sat my favorite photo. It was a picture of me holding Jon, my parents standing behind me. We were sitting out in the backyard at a barbecue the summer before they died. My neighbor had taken the shot.

I knew photos usually invited questions, but I couldn't bring myself to put those photographs away. They were a painful reminder that loving people only led to heartbreak… but I couldn't bear to part with them.

I kissed my fingertips and placed them gently against the photo of my parents.

I miss you.

After a moment, a bead of sweat rolling down my nape drew me out of my melancholic fog and I wrinkled my nose. It was a hot day and I had blasted through the unpacking like The Terminator after John Connor.

Time to try out that gorgeous bath tub.

Pouring in some bubble bath and running the hot water, I immediately began to relax at the rich smell of lotus blossoms. Back in my bedroom, I peeled out of my sweaty shirt and shorts and felt a smug liberation as I walked down the hall, naked in my new apartment.

I smiled, gazing around at it, still not quite believing all 'the pretty' was mine for at least the next six months.

With music blasting from my smartphone, I sank deep into the tub and began to doze. It was only the growing chill of the water that nudged me to wakefulness. Feeling soothed and as content as I could be, I clambered inelegantly out of the tub and reached for my phone. As soon as silence reigned around me, I glanced over at the towel rail and froze.

Crap.

There were no towels. I scowled at the towel rail as if it was its fault. I could have sworn Izzy had towels on there last week. Now I was going to have to drip water all down the hall.

Grumbling under my breath, I wrenched the bathroom door open and stepped out into the airy hallway.

"Uh… hullo," a deep voice choked out, snapping my eyes up off the puddle I was making on the hardwood flooring.

A squeal of shock got crushed in my windpipe as I gazed into the eyes of the Suit.

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><p>Okay so that is chapter 5! Hope everyone likes!<p>

Just wanted to remind y'all about the name submission! For you new people, basically just send me a name, it doesn't have to be yours, and I WILL submit it eventually in the story! For those who sent it to me previously or in my other story, yes you will be added as well!

REVIEWS PLEASE!

~DustAngel


	6. Chapter 6

Hello guys! Sorry for the delay, I almost got expelled at school yay...Just PM me if you want the sorry ahaha.

*I own nothing except a few characters*

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><p>What was he doing here? In my house? STALKER!<p>

My mouth hung open as I tried to work out what the hell was going on; it took me a moment to realize his eyes weren't on my face. They were running all over my very naked body.

With a garbled noise of distress I clamped an arm over my breasts and a hand in front of my vajajay. Golden eyes met my horrified grey gaze, as I felt my body getting red from head to toe. "What are you doing in my apartment?" I glanced hurriedly around for a weapon. Umbrella? It had a metal point… that might work.

Another choking noise snapped my eyes back to his, and a flush of unwanted and totally inappropriate heat hit me between the legs. He had 'that look' again. That dark, sexually avarice look. I hated that my body responded so instantly to 'that look' considering the guy might be a serial killer.

"Turn around!" I yelled, trying to cover up how vulnerable I felt.

Immediately, the Suit held up his hands in surrender and he spun slowly around, his back to me. My eyes narrowed at the sight of his shaking shoulders. The bastard was laughing at me.

Heart racing, I moved to rush towards my room to grab some clothes – and possibly a baseball bat – when my eyes snagged on a photo on Izzy's memo board. It was a picture of Izzy… and the Suit.

What the hell?

Why had I not noticed this? Oh yeah. Because I didn't like to ask questions. Disgruntled at my own crap observational skills, I threw a quick look over my shoulder. I was gratified to find the Suit wasn't peeking. Skittering off to my room, his deep voice followed me, rumbling down the hall to my ears. "I'm Jace Wayland. Izzy's brother."

Of course he was, I thought grumpily, patting myself dry with a towel before shoving my angry limbs through a pair of shorts and a tank top.

With my dark red hair piled in a wet mess atop my head, I stormed back out into the hall to face him.

Jace had turned around, his lips quirked up at the corner now as he ran his eyes over me. The fact that I was dressed didn't matter. He was still seeing me naked. I could tell.

My hands flew to my hips in belligerent humiliation. "And you just walk in here without knocking?"

A dark eyebrow rose at my tone. "It is my flat."

"It's common courtesy to freaking knock," I argued.

His reply consisted of him shrugging and then jamming his hands casually into his suit pants. He'd taken his jacket off somewhere and his white shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, revealing tan, masculine forearms.

A knot of need tightened in my gut at the sight of those sexy forearms.

Shit.

Fuckity, shit, fuck.

I flushed inwardly. "Aren't you going to apologize?"

Jace gifted me a roguish smile. "I never apologize unless I mean it. And I'm not apologizing for this. It's been the highlight of my week. Possibly my year." His grin was so easy-going–coaxing me to smile back at him. I wouldn't.

Jace was Izzy's brother. He had a girlfriend.

And I was way too attracted to this stranger for it to be healthy.

"Wow, what a boring life you must lead," I replied haughtily and weakly as I walked by him. You try being witty after flashing your girl pieces to some guy you barely know. I couldn't really give him much of a wide berth and had to ignore the flutter of butterflies in my stomach as I caught a whiff of the delicious cologne he was wearing.

And it was besides the fact that I wasn't sure whether I wanted to punch him in the face or jump his bones. That's what the old me would have done. But no, I was Clary Fray; cool, calm and collected.

Grunting at my observation, Jace followed me. I could feel the heat of him at my back as I entered the sitting room.

His jacket was tossed across an armchair and a near empty mug of coffee was sitting beside an open newspaper on the coffee table. He'd just made himself at home while I was soaking in the tub, completely oblivious.

Annoyed, I shot him a dirty look over my shoulder.

His boyish grin hit me in the chest and I looked away quickly, perching on the arm of the couch as Jace sank casually into the armchair. The grin was gone now. He stared up at me with just a small smile playing on his lips, like he was thinking of a private joke. Or me naked.

Despite my resistance to him, I didn't want him to think that my nakedness was funny.

"So, you're Clarissa Fray."

"Clary," I corrected automatically.

He nodded and relaxed into his seat, his arm sliding along the back of the chair. He had gorgeous hands. Elegant, but masculine. Large. Strong. An image of that hand sliding up my inner thigh crossed my mind before I could stop it.

Fuck.

I unglued my eyes from them to him. He appeared comfortable and yet totally authoritative. It suddenly occurred to me that this was the Jace with all the money and responsibilities, a vainglorious girlfriend, and a little sister he was undoubtedly overprotective of.

"Izzy likes you."

Izzy doesn't know me. "I like Izzy. I'm not so sure about her brother. He seems kind of rude."

Jace flashed me those white teeth, showing a chipped incisor. "He's not sure of you either."

That's not what your eyes are saying. "Oh?"

"I'm not sure how I feel about my wee sister living with an exhibitionist."

I made a face at him, only just resisting sticking my tongue out at him. He really brought out my mature side. "Exhibitionists get naked in public. As far as I was aware, there was no one else in the apartment and I'd forgotten a towel."

"Thank God for small mercies."

He was doing it again. Looking at me that way. Did he know he was so blatant about it?

"Seriously," he continued, his eyes falling to my chest before snapping back up to my face. "You should walk around naked all the time."

The compliment got to me. I couldn't help it. The touch of a smile curled the corner of my lips and I shook my head at him like he was a naughty school boy.

Pleased, Jace laughed softly. A weird, unexpected fullness formed in my chest and I knew I had to break whatever weird instant attraction thing was going on between us. This had never happened to me before, so I was going to have to wing it.

I rolled my eyes. "You're an asshat."

Braden sat up with a snort. "Usually a woman calls me that after I've fucked her and called her a taxi."

I blinked rapidly at his blunt language. Really? We were using that word already in our short acquaintance?

He noticed. "Don't tell me you hate that word?"

No. I imagine that word can be a total turn on in the right moment. "No. I just don't think we should be talking about fucking when we've just met."

Okay. That came out all wrong.

Jace's eyes brightened with silent laughter. "I didn't know that's what we were doing."

Abruptly, I changed the subject. "If you're here for Isabelle, she's tutoring."

"I came to meet you, actually. Only, I didn't know I was meeting you. Quite the coincidence. I've thought about you quite a bit since last week in the taxi."

"Was that while you were out having dinner with your girlfriend?" I asked snidely, feeling like I was swimming against the tide with this guy. I wanted us out of this flirty, sexual place we'd landed in and into a normal, 'he's just my roommate's brother' kind of place.

"Chase is down south visiting parents this week."

Woah. Did I hear that right? "You're gay? What the shit?"

He gave me an amused smirk. "Chase is a girl. Sure, a little air-headed but still a girl. Why do you care?"

Like I give a crap. Hah. "I see. Well…" I stood up, hoping the gesture would usher him out. "I would say it was nice to meet you, but it wasn't. I have a lot to do. I'll tell Izzy you dropped by."

Laughing, Jace shook his head and stood up to pull on his suit jacket. "You're a hard nut to crack."

Okay, clearly I had to lay it out clear and simple for this guy. "Hey, there will be no cracking of this nut. Now or ever."

He was choking on laughter now as he stepped towards me, making me back into the couch. "Really, Clarissa… Why do you have to make everything sound so dirty?"

My mouth fell open in outrage as he turned and left… with the last word.

I hated him.

I really did.

Pity my body did not.

Club 34 was less of a club and more of a bar with a small square dance floor beyond the alcove at the back. On the basement level, the ceilings were low, the circular sofas and square cubes that acted as seats were low, and the bar area was actually built a few levels lower, meaning drunken people had to walk down three steps to get to us. Whoever added that little design to the architects draft had clearly been smoking something.

Thursday nights usually found the low-lit bar crowded with students but with the semester over and the Scottish summer upon us, the night was quiet and the music was turned down since there was no one on the 'dance floor'.

I handed the guy standing across the bar his drinks and he gave me a ten pound note. "Keep the change." He winked at me.

I ignored the wink but stuck the tip in the tips jar. We divided it at the end of the night even though Maia argued that she and I pulled the most tips in because of the low-cut white tank top we wore as a 'uniform' with black skinny jeans. The tank had Club 34 scrawled across the right breast in black French script. Simple, but effective. Especially when you were as blessed in the boob department as I was.

Jordan was on break so Maia and I were dealing with the small crowd of customers at the bar, a crowd dwindling by the minute. Bored, I glanced down to the other end of the bar to see if Maia needed my help.

She did.

Just not in a bartending kind of way.

Reaching out to hand the customer she was serving his change, the guy grabbed Maia's wrist and tugged her over the bar so she was inches from his face. Frowning, and biding my time to see how she would react, her tanned skin grew flush and she wrenched on her arm to break his hold. His friends stood behind him laughing. Nice.

"Let me go, please," Maia said between gritted teeth, pulling harder.

With no Jordan around and Maia's wrist so skinny it might break, it was left up to me. I headed down the bar towards them, pressing the button under the bar for the security guys at the door.

"Oh come on, sweetheart, it's my birthday, just one kiss."

My hand clamped down around the guy's and I bit my nails into his skin. "Let go of her, asshole, before I tear the flesh from your hand and nail it to your balls."

He hissed in pain and jerked back from me, consequently letting go of Maia. "Fucking bitch." He groaned, cradling the hand that was now covered in deep crescent-shaped marks. "I'm complaining to management."

Why did my gender always come into play in a negative situation? And what? Were we in some 80's brat pack movie? I snorted at him, unimpressed.

Brian, our huge security guy appeared behind him. He did not look amused. "Problem, Clary?"

"Yeah. Can you please remove this guy and his friends from the bar?"

He didn't even ask why. There had only been a few occasions where we'd had people tossed out, so Sebastian trusted my assessment of the situation. "Come on fellas, move it," he growled and like the cowards they were, pale-faced and drunk off their asses, the three of them lumbered out of the bar with Sebastian behind them.

Feeling Maia tremble beside me, I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

"Aye." She gave me a weak smile. "Bad night all around. Melorn dumped me earlier."

I winced knowing how much that had to hurt Maia and her little brother. They lived together in a small apartment on Leith Walk where they took turns taking care of their mom who had ME–Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. To make the rent, Maia – who was gorgeous – used her looks to get herself 'sugar daddies' to help take care of them financially. No matter how much people told her she was smart enough to do something more with her life, she was just full of insecurities. The only confidence she did have was in her good looks and their ability to snag a guy to take care of her and her family. But looking after her mom always trumped them and sooner or later they all eventually dumped her. "I'm sorry, Maia. You know if you need help with rent or anything, all you've got to do is ask."

I'd offered more times that I could count. She always said no.

"Nah." She shook her head and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. "I'll find someone new. I always do."

She wandered away with a slump to her shoulders and I found myself worrying about her when I really didn't want to. Maia was one of the misunderstood. She could grate on your nerves with her materialism, but humble you with her loyalty to her family. She might love pretty shoes but they took a backburner when it came to making sure her kid brother and mom were okay. Unfortunately, that loyalty also meant she'd trample over anyone who got in her way, and be trampled over by anyone willing to use her situation against her. "I'm going on my break. I'll send Jordan out."

I nodded, even though she couldn't see me, wondering who her next victim would be. Or was that whose victim she would next become?

"It's quiet tonight." Jordan ambled towards me two minutes later with a can of soda in hand. Tall, dark-haired and good-looking, Jordan probably pulled in just as many tips as Maia and I did. He was a perennial flirt. And he was good at it.

"It's summer," I mused, lazily tracing a finger around his tattooed scrawled arms. "It'll pick up weekdays again when August comes around." I didn't have to explain I meant it would pick up because of the Festival. In August, the entire city was taken over by the famous festival. Tourists descended on the city, stealing all the best tables in all the best restaurants and there was always so many of them they made walking five steps into a five minute journey.

Tips were great though.

Jordan groaned and leaned closer to me. "I'm bored." He flicked his eyes over my body with lazy perusal. "Want to shag me in the men's toilets?"

He asked me this every shift.

I always said no, and then told him to 'shag' Maia instead. His reply: 'Been there, done that'. I was a friendly challenge and I think he honestly had deluded himself into thinking he'd one day conquer me.

"Well? Do you?" A familiar soft voice asked from behind me.

I whirled around, blinking in surprise to find Izzy on the other side of the bar. Behind her was a guy I didn't recognize and… Jace.

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><p>That's chapter 6! I tried to make it longer for y'all, so hope you enjoyed! I am sill taking names, so send them to me! Thank you to everyone that has, if you're reading the chapter, hopefully you see your name there!<p>

Love love,

~DustAngel


	7. Chapter 7

Hey everyone! So, I got a PM and they wanted to know what I almost got expelled for... well, I got drunk at school. Yup, can definitely add that to my list of things that once was enough!

I also wanted to say thanks for all the support you guys rock! I'll be answering reviews at the end of the chapter from now on.

*I own NONE of it*

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><p>Blanching instantly, still mortified from yesterday, I barely noted the carefully blank expression in his eyes as he watched Jordan.<p>

Wrenching my own gaze from him, I smiled weakly at Izzy. "Um… what are you doing here?"

Izzy and I had, had dinner together the night before. I'd told her Jace had stopped by, but I hadn't told her about the whole naked thing. She'd told me about her class, and I could understand why she'd make such a great tutor. Her passion for fashion was infectious and I found myself listening to her with genuine interest.

All and all, it had been a pleasant first dinner. Izzy had asked me a couple of personal questions that I had managed to deflect back onto her. I now knew that she was a big sister to half-siblings, Kiyla Marie (fourteen) and Max Roe (ten). Her mom, Maryse, lived in the area with her husband Robert. Maryse was a part-time manager at some big hotel, and Robert, a professor of classical history at the university. It was clear from the way she talked that Izzy adored them all and I got the impression that Jace spent more time with this family than his own mother.

At lunch today, Izzy and I had taken a break from our own work and met in the sitting room for food and a little bit of television. We'd sniggered our way through an episode of classic British comedy 'Are you Being Served?' and had bonded in comfortable silence. I'd felt as though I were gaining surprisingly fast but steady ground with my new roommate.

However, turning up at my work with her brother? Well that was not cool. Not that she knew about my incident yesterday with her brother…

"We're meeting up with some friends for a drink in Alicante. We thought we'd stop by to say hi." She grinned at me, her eyes dancing with mischief in a seventh grader kind of way before she slanted them questioningly in Jordan's direction.

Alicante huh? That was a nice place. I noted Izzy's pretty sequin dress. It looked like something from the 1920's and screamed designer. It was the first time I'd seen her so put together and with Jace standing next to her wearing another dapper suit as well as their companion, Simon, I felt a little out of sorts. Despite all my money, I wasn't used to the obviously stylish, 'cocktails and crème brulee' kind of lifestyle these guys were used to. Somehow disappointed, I realized I did not fit in with this crowd.

"Oh," I answered dumbly, ignoring her questioning eyebrows.

"This is Simon." Izzy turned to the guy behind her as soon as she realized I wasn't going to answer her silent query. Izzy's pale eyes turned dark with deep warmth as she looked up at Simon and I wondered if this guy was her boyfriend. Not that she'd mentioned a boyfriend. The dark-haired hottie was just a little shorter than Jace with broad shoulders that filled out his suit nicely.

His warm dark eyes glittered at me under the bar lights as he smiled. "Hi. Nice to meet you."

"You too."

"Simon is Jace's best friend," Izzy explained and then turned to her brother. As soon as she looked at him she burst out laughing, her giggles filling the bar like fairy bubbles as she glanced back at me over her shoulder. "I would introduce you to Jace but I believe… you've already met." I barely heard the word 'met' over her choked laughter.

I stiffened.

She knew.

Eyes narrowed, I shot Jace a disgusted look. "You told her."

"Told her what?" Simon asked bemused, looking at the still chortling Izzy as though she'd gone mad.

Jace's mouth turned up in amusement as he answered Simon without taking his eyes off me, "That I walked in on Clarissa when she was wandering around the flat naked."

Simon eyed me curiously, an eyebrow peaked in sudden interest.

"No," I retorted with a bite in my tone. "I was coming out of the bathroom looking for a towel."

"He saw you naked?" Jordan interrupted, a scowl marring his forehead.

"Jace Wayland." Jace stuck a hand across the bar for Jordan to shake. "Nice to meet you."

Jordan took it, seeming a little dazed by Jace. Great. Even men were charmed by him. While he smiled at Jordan, that smile disappeared when his eyes fell on me again. I detected a slight chill in them and frowned. What had I done now?

"I have a girlfriend," Jace assured Jordan. "I wasn't putting the moves on yours."

"Oh, Clare-bear isn't my girlfriend." Jordan shook his head with a cocky grin down at me. "Not for my lack of trying."

"Customer." I pointed to the girl at the other end of the bar, glad for an excuse to get rid of him.

As soon as he was gone, Izzy was leaning against the bar. "Not your boyfriend? Really? Why not? He's cute. No, he's hot. And he certainly thinks you're hot too."

"He's a walking sexually transmitted disease," I answered grumpily, running a dishrag over an invisible spot on the bar, desperately trying to avoid Jace's gaze.

"Does he always talk to you like that?"

Jace's question brought my head up reluctantly and I immediately felt the need to reassure him and defend Jordan when I saw his cool, lethal eyes narrowed in my colleague's direction. "He doesn't mean anything by it."

"Oh man, that break surely wasn't ten minutes?" Maia complained as she wandered slowly behind the bar. She reeked of cigarette smoke. I couldn't imagine why anyone would put up with any habit that made them stink so badly. I wrinkled my nose at her and Maia instantly understood. Not taking it to heart, she just shrugged and blew me a teasing kiss as she stopped to lean against the bar across from Jace. Her big green eyes drank him in as though he were a cigarette she was trying to quit. "And who do we have here?"

"I'm Isabelle." She waved at Maia as though she was a cute fifteen year old. I smiled at her. She was kind of adorable. "I'm Clary's new flatmate."

"Hi." Maia offered her a polite smile before looking back at Jace expectantly.

I wasn't at all annoyed by her blatant interest in him.

"Jace." He nodded at her, his eyes quickly returning to my face.

Okay.

Really?

I was stunned.

If I were honest with myself I would admit that I had been bracing myself to watch Jace turn the flirt up a notch for Maia. She was tall, model thin, and had thick, long, curly dark hair. If Jace Wayland transformed into a smoldering flirt around me then I had totally been expecting him to melt Maia into the floor with his charm.

Instead he'd been kind of cool towards her.

That did not make me happy in any way.

Hmm. I'd always been good at lying to myself.

"Jace Wayland?" Maia asked, oblivious to his disinterest. "Oh my God. You own Seelie Court."

Damn my curiosity over this guy. "Seelie Court?"

"The club on Victoria Street. You know, just off the Grassmarket." Maia's eyelashes were batting a mile a minute at him now.

He owns a nightclub. Of course he does.

"I do," he muttered and then checked his watch.

I knew that move. I used that move whenever I was uncomfortable. In that moment I really wanted to slap Maia for gushing all over him. Jace was not replacing Meliorn. No way.

"I love that place," continued, leaning further over the bar to give him an eagle-eye view of her small, inconsequential chest.

Meow. Where did that come from?

"Maybe we could go together some time? I'm Maia, by the way."

Ugh. She was giggling like a five-year-old. For some reason that giggle, which I heard every Thursday and Friday night, was suddenly very irritating.

Jace nudged Izzy as if to say 'let's go', his expression impatient now. But Izzy was too busy murmuring to Simon to notice her brother's quiet desperation.

"What do you say?" Maia persisted.

Jace shot me a searching look I didn't quite understand before shrugging at her. "I have a girlfriend."

Maia snorted, fluffing her hair over her shoulder. "So leave her at home."

Oh Jesus C… "Izzy, didn't you say you guys were meeting someone?" I asked loudly enough to drag her away from Simon. She needed to rescue her brother pronto.

"What?"

I gave her a pointed look and repeated the question with gritted teeth.

Finally recognizing the look on Maia's face and the one on her brother's, Izzy nodded wide-eyed with understanding. "Oh yes. We better leave."

Maia sulked. "Don't you-"

"Maia!" Jordan called for assistance from the bottom end of the bar where more customers had started congregating. I sort of loved him in that moment.

Grumbling, Maia shot Jace a childish pout and hurried over to Jordan and the waiting customers.

"Sorry." Izzy bit her lip, casting Jace an apologetic look.

He waved her apology off and stepped back, gesturing like a gentleman for her to take the lead out of the bar.

"Bye, Clary." She gave me a wide smile and a wave. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Yeah. Have a good night."

I observed the proprietary hand Simon placed on Izzy's lower back as he nodded a polite goodbye my way and led her out. Was there something going on there? Possibly. Not that I would ask her about it. She'd only turn my curiosity back on me with questions about my non-existent love life and then she'd want to know why my love-life was non-existent. That was not a conversation I wanted to have with anyone.

My skin prickled and reluctantly I let my gaze travel back to Jace who'd taken a step towards the bar, the polite coolness from earlier replaced with a heat that was all too familiar.

"Thanks for the rescue." I swear his low, rumbling voice vibrated all the way into my panties.

Squirming inwardly, I tried for nonchalance. "No problem. Maia's a sweetheart and she doesn't mean any harm… but she's a blatant gold digger."

Jace just nodded, seeming uninterested in anything Maia-related.

Silence quickly fell between us, our eyes catching, staying, locking. I didn't even realize my mouth had fallen open until his eyes dipped to stare at it.

What the hell was this?

I snapped back from him, feeling my skin flush as I glanced around to see if anyone else had caught the moment between us. No one was watching.

Why wasn't he leaving?

Looking back at him, I tried not to seem unnerved, when in actuality I was so out of my depth. I attempted unsuccessfully to ignore his slow, heated perusal of my body. He had to stop doing that!

When his eyes eventually crawled their way back up to mine, I made a face at him. I couldn't believe him. He'd pretty much ignored Maia, but for me he'd turn on 'the sex'. Did he get some sick satisfaction out of tormenting me?

Stepping back from the bar with a quick grin, Jace shook his head at me.

"What?" I scowled.

He smirked at me. I hated when guys smirked at me. Even sexy smirks like his. "I don't know what I like better…" he mused, stroking his chin in teasing contemplation. "…the naked you, or you in that tank top. D's right?"

What? I frowned, totally confused.

And then it hit me.

Jerk!

The asshole had just—correctly—guessed my bra cup size. He was never going to let me live down yesterday. I could see that now.

I threw my dishrag at him and he laughed, dodging it. "I'll take that as a yes."

Then he was gone before I could summon up an epic retort that would knock him on his ass.

I swear to God, the next time we met, I'd get the last word in.

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><p>Okayy, so I'll just respond to those that commented on the last chapter...<p>

**Luckybrat452-494 ~I put your names in! Hope you're good with that LOL**

**Lindsayhonaker ~ Well, it was jealous Jace! hoped you liked it:))**

**ddive ~Trust me, there is a LOT more of sexy banter and innuendos coming forth**

**Islandgirl4evR ~ Thanks! && school is better, and your review made my day :3**

**IridescentLight ~ I LOVE YOU. SERIOUSLY. Can I call you god?**

And for all the guests: PLEASE GET AN ACCOUNT! lOVE YOU STILL.

Thank you everyone, and I am still taking names if you want them in this story!

Love xoxo

~DustAngel


	8. Chapter 8

HELLOO! Sorry for not updating, I'm shit at it I know LOL : I almost got suspended again, this time for streaking at school AHA.

*I OWN NOTHING, CREDS TO MISS CASSIE CLARE AND SAM YOUNG*

~I just wanted to say that I'm NOT from New York, so all my references and street names are pretty much bull shit because I used google... happy reading!~

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><p>~8~<p>

I looked down at the painting in front of me. A girl with flaming red hair had her back turned and her dress pooling behind her with her arms holding each other. The man behind her was faceless, holding his arms out towards the girl as if to embrace her as she walked further away from him. Their outlines were blurred as if they were a part of their surroundings.

The man had been a scraggly, weak brunette man trying to hold on to the girl. Now he was much more muscular, blond and looking a lot like someone I knew.

Frustrated, I pushed my canvas away.

Fucking Jace! He was polluting my artwork with his sexual toxicity.

That's it. I was giving up for today. Knowing Izzy was bringing Chinese takeout home for dinner after her research at the university, I decided to slot in some time at the gym just around the corner as a pre-emptive attack on the calories. I generally didn't care about my food intake, but I had been into sports at school and liked to keep in shape. Good thing too, because I really liked chips, or crisps, as they were called here. Any chips, all chips, fattening, delicious, and crispy chips. My close relationship with chips was possibly the most real in my life.

I drove out my frustration over my painting into the treadmill, crosstrainer, bike and weights until I was a sweating, jellified mess. The workout relaxed me–enough that my brain started to work again. I was wanting to design a comic, but the type that expressed it's story through the pictures. A character started forming in my head and she wouldn't leave me alone. Mostly because she was a lot like me. She was alone in life, independent, driven. She'd grown up in foster care in Scotland and moved to the US on a work visa and ended up falling in love…

The character was my mom. My mom's story had been great until it ended tragically. Everyone loves a good tragedy. Everyone would love my mom. She'd been spunky and outspoken, but really kind and compassionate. My dad had adored her from the minute he met her but it had taken him six months to break down her defenses. Their romance had been epic. I'd never thought about writing a romance before, but I couldn't get the idea of immortalizing my parents on paper out of my head. Flashes of memories I'd buried under a steel and cold will started passing across my eyes until the gym disappeared around me: my mom standing at the kitchen sink, washing the dishes because she didn't trust the dishwasher.

My dad quietly pressing up against her back, his arms sliding around her waist and hugging her close as he whispered in her ear. Whatever he'd said had made her melt back against him, her head tilting up for his kiss. Then it flashed to my dad chasing my mom inside the house at night, the door slamming, scaring the bejesus out of me and my babysitter. My mom yelling at him for being an alpha male douchebag. My dad growling about how he wasn't going to stand by and watch some jerk from her work blatantly flirting with her in front of him.

My mom screaming that he didn't have to punch the guy. 'He had his hand on your ass!' my dad had snapped back, as I watched on in bewildered amazement. Someone had had his hand on my mom's ass in front of my dad? Idiot. 'I was taking care of it!' my mom argued. 'Not fast enough! You're not working with him anymore!' From there the argument had escalated until my babysitter was running out of there without waiting for her payment. But I wasn't worried by the argument.

My parents had always had a passionate relationship. The argument would resolve itself. And it did. My dad apologized for losing his cool but wouldn't budge on the whole 'not working with him' thing. The issue became such a big deal that my mom eventually agreed, because the jerk from her work was, well, a jerk and I assumed there was more to the story than just what had happened that night. My mom actually moved to a different accountancy firm. Marriage was all about compromise she'd said, and dad would do it for her.

The memories were so clear. I could see the gold in my mom's eyes, could smell my dad's cologne, could feel his arms around me, my mom's hand brushing through my hair…

My chest squeezed tight and I stumbled on the treadmill, the world around me coming back, but in a pulsing of color and noise that didn't make sense. My blood was pounding in my ears, my heart rate had escalated so fast I struggled to breathe. Pain flared up my knee, but I was barely aware of it, or the strong hands helping me to my feet and on to solid ground.

"Focus on your breathing," a soothing voice coached in my ear.

I followed the voice and swam through the panic, grabbing control of my breathing.

Eventually my vision cleared, the compression in my head easing, my lungs opening up.

Trembling from the adrenaline spiked by the panic attack, I turned to look up at the guy who was holding onto me. His dark eyes were concerned.

"You feeling better?"

I nodded, embarrassment flooding me as I looked up to see people watching us from the machines. I gently eased from his grip. "Sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't be. I'm just glad I caught you before your whole body hit the treadmill. Your knee is going to have a nasty bruise on it though." He gestured to it.

I glanced down and saw a tear in my sports leggings and the pain hit me. I winced, flexing my leg. "Great."

"I'm Sebastian." He stuck his hand out to me and I politely took it, but lazily shook it. I was exhausted.

"Clary. Thanks, by the way."

Sebastian frowned and I noted that he was cute, if you liked that muscly, clean-cut sporty type.

And he was a brunette. "You sure you're okay? I know a panic attack when I see one."

Flushing inwardly, I shook my head, not wanting to drag up the memories that had brought on the attack. "I'm really fine. Just been a stressful week. But um… thanks again. I'm just going to head home."

"I've seen you here before." He stopped me with a smile. "I'm a personal trainer here."

And? "Okay."

He smirked at my response. "I'm just saying, I'm here. If you need anything."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks again." I gave him an embarrassed wave and took off for the locker room.

I guess the book about my mom was out.

I got home before Izzy and decided I needed to keep moving, terrified of bringing on another panic attack. I hadn't had one of those in years. I started putting out plates in the kitchen trying to conjure up plans in my head for the next chapter in my fantasy novel in an attempt to pretend what happened at the gym hadn't actually happened.

My mind was taken off of the panic attack. Just not by my comic.

That damn Jace intruded again.

I opened the cutlery drawer and found a bunch of crap in it that didn't belong there. Next on the list: reorganize the mess Izzy had made of the kitchen. The drawer was full of odds and ends—thread, needles, a camera, glue, double sticky tape, and photographs. There was one of Jace leaning against a railing that looked out over water somewhere. It was a sunny day, and he had turned to the camera just in time, his eyes squinting against the light, his beautiful mouth curled up in an affectionate smile.

As I lay the dishes out, Jace's smile reminded me of his laughter, and that laughter kept echoing in my ears as it had done for the past four days since I'd seen him at the bar. All I could think about was him shirtless with me wrapped around him like a tortilla. Just because I had written off sexual encounters, it didn't mean I wasn't a full-blooded woman who got horny just like everyone else. I had a shoebox of vibrating goodies that took care of me when I was in the mood. But since meeting Jace, I was constantly in the mood and every now and then the thought of going out and finding a one night stand would cross my mind.

Of course I'd remember what it felt like to wake up in a strange bed with two strange guys on either side of me and not know what the hell had happened, and that notion instantly evaporated.

I just… I couldn't understand how I could be this attracted to someone. Someone, I barely even knew.

The front door slammed, shaking me out of those thoughts, and I began pouring water for me and tea for Izzy.

"Hullooo," she cooed happily as she entered the kitchen, the smell of the Chinese food triggering a series of grumbles from my stomach. "How was your day?" she dumped the food on the table and I immediately began helping her put it out.

"It was fine," I mumbled, chewing on a prawn cracker.

When we finally sat down across from each other she threw me a look of concern. "Are you okay?"

No, I'm not okay. I went to the gym and had a panic attack in front of a bunch of strangers. Oh

and your flirtatious son-of-a-bitch brother won't get out of my head or my sexual fantasies. I'm horny, I'm pissed off, and I don't like it. "Artist's block."

"Oh, that's rubbish. I only know what that's like when I'm writing my research. I can't imagine how bad it gets painting and doing that stuff."

"Beyond frustrating."

We ate in silence for a moment or two, and I noted with curiosity how tense Izzy seemed. "Did you have a good day?"

She gave me a wan smile just before she took a bite of curry rice. When she finished chewing she nodded. "I'm starting to feel the pressure of being a post-grad student."

"Ah the joys of student life."

Izzy murmured her agreement, and then after staring at the table in silence for a full minute, asked, "So… what did you think of Simon the other night?"

The question seemed to come out of nowhere and there was a definite coyness to it. Huh. I knew there something going on there. "I don't know. I didn't really get a chance to talk to him.

He's cute. Seems friendly."

A dreamy look passed over Izzy's face. No joke. Dreamy. I'd only ever seen a look like that in the movies. The girl had it bad.

"Simon's great. He and Jace have been friends forever. If it wasn't Jace intimidating my boyfriends in high school, it was Simon." She blushed, shaking her head. "I followed him around everywhere when I was a kid."

I didn't know what compelled me to… "Are you two seeing each other?"

Izzy jerked her gaze up to mine, her eyes wide. "No. Why? Did it seem that way?"

Okay. Wrong question to ask. "A little."

"No." She shook her head vehemently. "We're just friends. Anyway, Jace's always telling me what a manwhore Simon is. He'd never settle down. And he's too much like a brother to me for there to be anything… you know… more…" she trailed off unconvincingly.

I knew one thing anyway. I would never have to worry about Izzy lying to me. She couldn't lie for shit. "Okay."

"So are you seeing anyone?"

Damn. It was my fault. I'd asked a question. "No. Are you?"

"No." Izzy sighed. "When was your last relationship?"

Does sex count as a relationship? I shrugged. "When was yours?"

Izzy pursed her lips, her eyelashes dipping to cover the instantly hardened look in her eyes. A fierce wave of protectiveness rushed over me out of nowhere, surprising the hell out of me.

"Izzy?"

"Nine months ago."

And what did the bastard do to you? "What happened?"

"We dated for five months. He told me he worked in a recruitment agency. In actuality he works for a rival property development company here in New York. They were bidding against Jace for this amazing plot in Commercial Quay. Turns out he was just using me to get to Jace, to find out what Jace's bid would be so his company could outbid him. Suffice to say the relationship did not end well. He ended up with a broken nose and Jace ended up with the plot."

I raised an eyebrow, silently congratulating Jace on teaching the a-hole a lesson. "Jace beat him up?"

"No." Izzy shook her head. "Jace doesn't fight. He hasn't in a long time." She smiled widely now. "It was Simon that beat the tar out of him."

I grinned back at her. "I shouldn't condone violence, but… yay, Simon."

Izzy laughed and then sobered. "I'm just glad my naivety didn't cause Jace any difficulties at work."

I'm sure that wasn't what Jace was worried about. I didn't know how I knew that, but I did. Anyone with eyes and ears could tell Izzy was important to him. "I can't believe someone would go to that much trouble, do something so heinous, for a plot of land."

"Commercial Quay is really up and coming. Michelin Star restaurants, cosmetic surgeries, stylish cocktail bars… Jace is building luxury flats there and they'll fetch anything from half a million to a million for the penthouse apartments. Quite the profit margin."

I was sickened that anyone could use someone as sweet as Izzy for a damn profit margin.

"Guys suck."

Izzy raised her mug of tea at me in agreement.

After a while of chewing silently, Izzy cleared her throat. "I noticed a few photographs of your family in your room earlier. You know, you're welcome to put them out in the sitting room or anywhere in the flat. It's your home now too."

I stiffened at the mention of my family, still uneasy about taking another attack. "That's okay."

I heard her answering sigh and braced myself. "You don't really talk about them much."

The time had come already? With Magnus it had been six weeks before she found out. Stomach churning, I pushed my plate away from me and sat back to meet Izzy's anxious gaze. We were roommates now, we got along – surprisingly well, considering how different we were – and it was time to just lay my cards on the table.

"My family is dead," I told her numbly, no grief, no tears, nothing for her to see as I watched her cheeks grow instantly pale. "I don't talk about them. Ever."

I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe because Izzy was so open and kind I thought there would be an attempt to break through my guard. But she amazed me again. "Okay," she answered, and I saw her struggling to hide the pity in her gaze.

"Alright then." I gave her a soft, reassuring smile and she answered it, her shoulders relaxing.

A minute later she murmured, "You know, you can be a little bit intimidating."

My lips curled up apologetically. "I know. Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm used to Jace."

As though he'd heard his name, Izzy's cell lit up and his name flashed across the screen. She answered it immediately, but without her usual cheer. Seems my dead family was a mood killer.

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><p>Chapter 8 is up! LOL okay hope you guys liked it! I'll try to update soon, but I'll be going for vacation in two days.<p>

REVIEWS PLEASE! I LOVE YOU ALL, THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT! LOVE XOXOX

~DustAngel


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